


Families

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [343]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint's children, Gen, Tony doesn't have the highest opinion of himself, Tony fixing things, Tony with children, families, post Age of Ultron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently, Laura Barton was not kidding when she said the tractor needed a look-to.</p><p>Never let it be said that Tony left people in technological lurches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Families

**Author's Note:**

> This is another piece from Tumblr.
> 
> Post AoU, Clint's family. Tony interacting with children.Tony doesn't have the best opinion of himself.

Laura wasn’t apparently kidding when she said the tractor was shot, so somehow Tony ends up back at that godforsaken farm, fixing every piece of technology in sight.

Never let it be said that Tony Stark doesn’t care for his friends. And isn’t offended by broken tech.

He’s gone through their tractor, their piece of shit car, their television, and their sad excuse for a laptop, and just when he assumed he could leave, Laura hustles him onto the couch with a big glass of lemonade and a smile.

Clint would’ve let Tony leave. But Clint is apparently helping Natasha out, training the New Avengers.

Tony tries not to think about that.

He’s drinking the lemonade when little people walk up to him. The smaller agents. They’ve been remarkably quiet–aren’t little agents always loud and annoying?–and Tony almost forgot they were here.

Tony has no idea what to do with little agents. None whatsoever. Seriously; he never had the best example in the parenting department, and he took care of the issue for himself years and years ago, lest he ever accidentally follow in their footsteps. It’s not for him. Before Barton, he didn’t even really know anyone who had kids.

The baby isn’t there at least, although that might just be because the baby can’t walk. At what age do children learn to walk? Tony can’t remember. It’s probably not three months. 

“Hello?” Tony tries. Maybe they communicate like regular people. It can’t hurt to try.

“Hi,” the girl says brightly. 

“Daddy says you build robots,” the boy says, looking at Tony with bright eyes, and Tony knows the boy, young and isolated all the way out here, doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know why Tony flinches, because Tony’s built DUM-E and U and Butterfingers, but of course, Ultron. His greatest fuckup, probably, which is saying a lot.

“Not anymore,” he says harshly, and the kids flinch at that, and there’s enough decency in Tony to feel bad at making kids flinch–Tony doesn’t hate kids, doesn’t want to pop balloons and steal candy and make them cry, he’s not a damn monster, he just doesn’t know what he’s doing–but he can’t take his words back. Wouldn’t change them anyways. Not anymore.

“Daddy says you build other stuff too,” the girl offers cautiously after a minute. “Like phones.”

“And ‘puters,” the boy says.

Tony nods, because he does do that, even if he doesn’t really build them himself. He could, he designed them, that’s what counts. 

“Towers,” the girl adds. “Daddy says you built a tower.”

That he did too. Technically he didn’t build it, contractors and construction crews did that, but again, the design totally counts. If the engineer doesn’t get the structural integrity down, nothing else can come next. So he built a tower. Big one, bold one, empty now, useless. He tries not to think about that too.

“Build one with us?” the boy asks.

Tony blinks. “Build…a tower…here?” he asks, as if I-beams and scaffolding are going to appear outside the window.

The kid points to the legos on the floor.

Tony’s never played with Legos.

“Alright,” he says. “Bet we can build a da–dang good tower.”

When Clint gets home, dinner is long since over, and Tony’s on the floor, dictating construction of a lego tower so tall it requires standing on the couch to add more pieces to. He rambles about engineering as he goes, and the kids giggle the whole time, obediently helping to build the tallest, most structurally sound tower anyone’s ever built of Legos.


End file.
